To Become
by iguessso12
Summary: Transcendence AU Drift AU multichapter fic: Mabel doesn't see her brother after the Transcendence. She believes he died. But Dipper is very much alive. Trying to stay that way. This is Dipper's battle to survive in the world of demons and how he is steadily becomes the worst of them. (Rated T for violence and graphic descriptions)
1. 1 Wings

Wings

Dipper's chest heaved. It was a wonder why. For these past few weeks, he didn't need to breathe, or eat, or sleep. He thought maybe he was going mad.

But right now, he thought maybe he was wearing thin.

Something inside of him warned him that he was low on energy. That the golden sparks had ceased to run under his skin. That the blue fire would soon be quenched. That the form he retained, in the dimension of the mind, would waste away. If he didn't do anything about it soon.

With a frustrated growl, he pushed the warning away. He was working on it.

Rising again, the demon across from him tittered with delight. Two of its arms dragged, grotesque and bloody behind it. Dipper had severed whatever served for tendons in those arms. But five more were still functioning. The surfaces brushed by its working fingers rotted away, reeking of pestilence. The main mass of the demon's body was covered with matted hair and gems of oozing puss. Its smile was fixed in a leer. The long beak that extended over its eyes shadowed them so they appeared flat and black.

Maybe a few weeks ago, Dipper would have trembled at the sight of the plague demon. But not anymore. Its appearance barely served as a surprise.

 **"Come here, little changeling."** The demon's voice sounded as if it was gurgling through layers of mucus, **"You will be a wonderful little snack."**

With speed Dipper didn't think the creature had, it shot forward. Wings. It had wings. Dipper hadn't noticed those before. Where did they come from?

 _He grew them._ A nonplussed voice informed him. _Most demons are capable of such a feat. Not you, though. You're pathetic._

Dipper grit his teeth as he dodged. In the past few weeks, he'd learned the way his gravity acted. He'd gotten quite good at orienting himself, but there was no good way to control fine movement while maneuvering. It was like he was an astronaut. Once he pushed off, there was no taking it back.

The plague demon took advantage of that, banking sharply. One of the slack arms clubbed Dipper about the chest, causing him to roll out of control. His loss of balance allowed the demon to rake a smoldering hand across his back.

Dipper screamed as furrows opened wide and immediately molded to black. The stench was disgustingly warm and oppressive. Nothing like the sharp and metallic scent of blood. It shot needles of pain into the surrounding area. But Dipper found he couldn't feel his back. Whatever resembled his skin and nerves were dead.

Heat began to sear his muscles as his body attempted to heal. But demon magic was much more potent than human weapons. It was slow going. Too slow with his low preserves.

 _You're pathetic._

"I'm not a demon." Dipper groused to the inner voice, "Why even compare us."

The answering laugh was painfully familiar. It was Bipper's laugh.

 **"Little changeling."** The demon ginned, swirling upside down in midair as it spoke, **"You won't need to worry about coming into yourself. I'll put you out of your misery."**

It lunged again. And Dipper tried to skip back. But with his injury, he was still sluggish. The demon caught him, one arm for each of his limbs. The tangle of the two creatures smashed into the ground of the mindscape, leaving a crater the size of a lake.

Dipper's consciousness blurred between the monochrome of the mindscape and the black of whatever lay beyond his current existence. The pain in his back was so intense, he didn't even have the awareness to cry out.

The last arm pinned his forehead, resting directly on his birthmark. It awakened agony that had nothing to do with his back injuries. The emancipated hand of the plague demon pushed past the barrier of his skin, plunging into his head.

The shriek that ripped through Dipper resembled a human's in no way, shape, or form. It was primal. It was chaos.

The noise tore away a layer of the demon restraining him, exposing molted green skin and black veins. Raw wounds smoked. But the creature disregarded it all. Its fanged mouth overflowed with saliva. A chuckle that sounded more like a hacking cough rocked the demon's frame. It spewed drool.

 **"You've started with such a weak form, little changeling."** It rasped, **"Given time, you might have developed demon characteristics. No matter, a demon soul will serve me well. So much power…"**

Dipper wasn't certain from where he heard the demon's speech. He felt as if he were somewhere outside of himself. The claws of the plague demon clipped his soul, where it rested behind his forehead, sending spirals of the most unimaginable sensation into his being. Torture. The kind that would leave an impression for a millennia.

How did he know that?

Suddenly, he was nebulous. Everywhere and not at all. A universe away, a smiling child waved in his direction, violet eyes canny and bright. An eternity ago, a cold dark planet hovered in an empty space. A separation by millions of parts, sub-atomic particles collided and formed an element, yet undiscovered.

 **"Yesss."** The plague demon hissed, sounding like a mass of disease ridden insects, **"Lucky me, to have caught you so young. You could have grown to be a hassle. How strange, for a demon to grow."**

 _So, you end up with all my power and more. And this is what you do with it? Get eaten! Go ahead, get eaten then._

Dipper didn't feel like there was anything left of him. He was so thin, ephemeral, he felt like a puff of someone's breath would disperse what remained.

He didn't even need to breathe.

Mabel did.

Mabel.

He'd protected her from Bill Cipher. And this was his payment. He was like this now. That idiot triangle. If only he hadn't tried to possess him as a last-ditch effort. What did the demon have to live for, anyway? Bill Cipher had no one. Dipper had Mabel.

Dipper needed to live.

Dipper needed to find Mabel and tell her that he was alive.

With tremendous focus, Dipper threw what was left of himself back into his body. He channeled himself into his forehead, forming a barrier between his soul and the demon's corrosive touch. He pulled himself tight, drawing upon anything that served as energy in the barren space of the mindscape. The reactions of the plague demon's magic fizzled out as Dipper snatched up the wayward motes of power.

The plague demon hesitated, blinking its scab-encrusted eyes. It sensed a change in the changeling.

Feeling raced back into the limbs of Dipper's form. His fingers twitched. His body levitated once more. But his eyes didn't open.

Instead, a third eye, in the center of his forehead flicked open. A bright outline of gold, contrasting his depleted stores of energy. The eye defied the demon tradition of hiding the soul, their greatest point of weakness.

As if wrenched by a marionette string, Dipper's hand broke free of the demon's one arm to yank the demon's other arm from his head. Once his soul was free of its clutches, he grabbed the demon's beak with both hands. His fingers closed like a vise, cracking the toughened scales. Shards of black rained on his face and clothes.

The plague demon reeled back in shock, affording Dipper enough room to kick the creature in its revolting chest. The demon flew back even farther, still blinking in surprise. A foot shaped print on its front crackled with golden sparks.

If his enemy was going to say anything, Dipper didn't give it the chance. He shot forward, taking the offense even though he was at an enormous disadvantage. It didn't matter. Something had risen up inside him, taking control. Something that wasn't human.

His eyes never opened, but he knew everything.

He knew that the plague demon was going to feint, before dodging to the right. He knew that this area of the mindscape paralleled the Sonoran Desert in Arizona. He knew that, hundreds of years from now, the desert would be home to millions, a city called Mortius.

It was too much.

It was perfect.

He cackled as he dashed to intercept the demon. Moving too fast to stop, he snatched one of the creatures arm as he breezed by. The limb came away with a tremendous tear. Blood, black ichor, sprayed everywhere. Dipper tossed the arm away before too much could get on his clothes. Within less than a second, Dipper reversed and shot back toward his foe. Sapphire flames gathered in his hands.

With a touch, the hair that remained on the plague demon ignited with hot flames. They raced along the creature's form like it had been dipped in gasoline. It shrieked, clawing at the burning parts, black mold replacing the blue blaze. Heaving, the demon turned on Dipper.

There was no rush of energy that had accompanied his sudden belligerence. Just a single, golden eye and a weak, human-like frame remained of him. But, there was no way he would die here. _He had possessed a child to stay in the world_. Whatever lengths it would take. He would continue to exist.

The plague demon screeched, thrashed its wings, and dove at Dipper. Four arms outstretched, reaching for his eye, his soul.

A grin pulled at his lips. Mocking. Dipper flexed his fingers, timing his swing perfectly with all the foresight and knowledge that flooded his mind. He scratched out the eyes of the demon with ragged, unkempt, human nails. Dull, but with enough force to damage. Dipper jabbed his other hand, spear-like, between the creatures ruined eyes and ignited it with flames.

The demon careened away screaming. Dipper smiled. Hilarious. Smoking, bleeding, and ruined, it managed to remain upright. It sputtered, hissed, and growled.

 **"You may take the appearance of a human. But you are a demon, little changeling. The most demonic of us all."**

 **"No matter."** Dipper responded, expending the magic to flick the plague demon's blood from his shoulder. **"You tried to eat me. Now I will return the favor."**

 **"Unlikely."**

The plague demon charged. Dipper shifted, grabbing hold of another arm. But rather than letting the creature barrel past, he held on, kicking off to swing up onto its back. Its arm, bent around backwards, resounded with a chorus of cracks. Dipper twisted it more fully so it shattered into a mess beneath withered skin.

Without hesitation, he pulled back his lips and plunged his dull, human teeth into the demon's rancid neck.

After weeks without eating, this was like nothing else. The flesh was soft and juicy. The flavor was terrible. Dipper imagined it might be better were it not a plague demon. He'd have to give it a try. Because now, golden sparks rushed into his stomach and nestled there. Fire lit his limbs with strength. He reached down to rip the demon's remaining limbs from its body.

All the while the creature screamed. One long, drawn out wail that didn't require it to breathe. It was a constant note of distress and powerlessness. The sound was sustained as pieces of its being were torn away. Its rot was unable to match the pace of Dipper's destruction. The wayward limbs decayed and new ones attempted to take their places.

Dipper burned them black.

He tilted his head, with predatory instinct. **"Where is your soul?"** He plunged his hand into the odd socket of the demon's seven arms, grinning as it stiffened beneath him. **"That would be it."**

The soul pulled free. Cords of power snapped back into the vessel. The plague demon's soul dripped with spoiled matter, covering Dipper's hands with a sour smelling residue. Unappealing.

In the past few weeks, he'd been able to either evade or destroy the demons that had attacked him. But he hadn't taken their souls. He'd always been able to regenerate the energy he expended. But after that brush with extermination, he wasn't so sure such a practice was ideal. What if the next attack succeeded?

That was no good.

Dipper shoved the putrid soul into his mouth. Pushed it farther than humanly possible, down his throat. All eyes now, squeezed shut, as he swallowed.

Beneath him, the demon's body dissolved into dust. Dipper floated there, aware of nothing around him. While inside, he was filled with fire. It roared up like a pyre. Every part of his being was invigorated. Heat. Hotter than a furnace. So satisfying. Flames licked his hands and traveled up his arms. Gold sparks jumped along his back and healed the last of his wounds. His eyes opened at last, and he could feel his gaze searing his surroundings.

Now.

He focused inward, siphoning a portion of his newfound energy into the small of his back. Right below the space where the plague demon's fingers had decimated his skin, a new pain blossomed.

Sweat beaded on his brow, but he pushed the transformation. Seconds later, nubs of bone pressed into the skin, punctured their way through, and stretched into a spindly skeleton. A rivulet of magic coated the new projections, threading a membrane over the spaces in between. And finally he stretched, a set of bat-like wings, so the tips touched together.

Still new, the wings were raw. The atmosphere of the mindscape sizzled against them. It hurt. A giggle built up in Dipper's throat. But there was no one to hear him. He let it loose. A mad cackle. It echoed in upon itself and reverberated through space. Terrifying.

He'd been different these past few weeks. He'd thought he's been simply dislocated from his body again. There was no way that was the case. Not anymore. Not after that.

Thoughts skittered through his mind, disorganized.

Find Mabel. I'm a demon. Wings. _I need more. Never enough. Hungry_. I'm alive. Arizona is not Oregon. _I need more. Power_. Find Mabel. _Hilarious._ _So hungry_. Demons. Mindscape. Invisible. Find Mabel. Stay alive. _Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry…_

TBC

* * *

 **Here's what I like about the Drift AU: unforgivable amounts of violence. I'm a terrible human being. This will be a miniseiries, a chapter for each of Dipper's demonic acquisitions. In the main AU, it's like puberty, NOT HERE! (I'm reposting this from my tumblr with some minimal edits)**

 **The demon here is inspired by my recent experience with a rather terrible wound – borderline gangrene. Not mine. But it was pretty much the most awful thing I've ever seen. So I'm sharing it with you.**

 **I know I said I was going to publish my story, Triangulation, next. I'm sorry. I've been SUPER stressed out lately (even got a nice little rash, thanks anxiety) so I haven't made as much progress as I'd hoped. Writing gore-fics instead seems to be how I'm handling the stress. Again, sorry :\**


	2. 2 Title

Title

 **"Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve."** Dipper generated extra fingers for his counting, **"Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Hmmm, not bad."**

He floated lackadaisically in the mindscape, surrounded by the greyed out pines of Gravity Falls. A shimmer of power clung to his skin. Sparks danced between his fingers, still human by all appearances, save the extra digits. He brushed his hands together, dismissing them.

Demon souls roiled about in his gut, digesting.

Ever since he'd eaten the soul of the plague demon, he'd welcomed the following creatures that dared to take his soul. The pace of attacks hadn't abated either. But not one had escaped alive to spread the word of this vicious new demon that disguised itself as a human.

And yet still, he was unable to force his way out of the mindscape. The barrier between dimensions was resilient and rubbery. Whenever he tried to push through, it clung to his form and eventually repulsed his efforts. He'd funneled all his power into becoming corporeal. All attempts unsuccessful.

 **"I guess I need more."** He muttered to himself. He ignored the way the needles of the pines shivered at his voice. **"I'm still hungry."**

Suddenly, a sensation he wasn't familiar with tugged at his soul. A thread of power that connected his present location to another. His forehead twitched, third eye blinking open, making him feel like he needed to sneeze. Hilarious. Human spasms.

He closed his eyes. Following.

A feathery breeze brushed over his skin, cool against his searing skin. It whispered through the pine trees, hushed, but carrying secrets only he could hear. His third eye was assaulted with color, radiating from every element. The ground effused soft shades of _tremple_. The creature in front of him smoked with coils of _rammin_.

Strange. It was a human. And it could see him. Amidst the smoke from his appearance.

"What is the meaning of this, Bill?"

Somehow, the voice was familiar. It took Dipper a minute to sift through his human memories. After he'd eaten the second demon, he'd broken down. Now he knew his tears were gold and his sobs melted the air. Disgust made him want to hurl sparking emesis, but he kept it down. He needed the energy. A jot of power could not be wasted. Human instincts were inconvenient. He shoved them down, repressing them with locks in the form of three-sided shapes. Triangles.

Bill. Bill Cipher.

Gideon Gleeful's honeyed accent registered.

Dipper opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of the diminutive showman. His powder blue suit was overlaid with more colors: confusion, anxiety, obstinance. A grin felt like it was ripping his face in half. Oh, this was _hilarious._

"Demon… What?" Gideon stuttered to a stop, examining the being in front of him further. Now the air was clear and everything was laid bare.

Dipper glanced down as well, for the first time registering what his tiny enemy was seeing. His clothes – shorts, t-shirt, and vest – were covered with blood of multiple colors. Black. Green. Gold. His own and that of others. Frayed rips and burned holes peppered the fabric so it hung off his emancipated frame. Transient tongues of fire licked at his sneakers, the canvas just as ratty as his clothes. Sparks made his snarled hair stand on end, but he felt his hat still securely fixed on his head.

He floated above a circle. They array was decorated with familiar symbols and a prominent triangle. But Dipper could tell that the stings of power were lax. Their origin was now connected to nothing. A few, wayward strands tangled about Dipper's ankle. So that's how he had ended up here.

Gideon's summons had pulled the next closest creature onto the plane of reality. If Dipper had doubted his demonhood before, he could no longer. But he'd already accepted his nature, it had been necessary.

"Dipper Pines?" Gideon muttered, "How is this right. You died. You died two months ago. I didn't summon a ghost, I summoned a demon."

Dipper threw back his head and laughed. Loud and mocking. Hilarious. This was pure gold. Sparks scampered along his shoulders. Wings flared, keeping his balance even as they shook with mirth. As giggles started to wind down, he snuck peek at the child psychic, causing him to dissolve into another fit. Golden tears leaked from his eyes and he rubbed them away with the heel of his hand.

"Bill. I demand to know what is going on right now! Why do you look like Dipper Pines? Why is the supernatural suddenly everywhere? I demand you tell me what you've done!"

 **"It's funny how dumb you are."** Dipper chuckled. He swooped closer to the edge of the chalk circle. He registered how the atmosphere here felt thick, like he was pushing at the barrier between dimensions again.

"Bill." Gideon warned with pointless heat.

 **"Oh, it's not Bill, kid. I am Dipper Pines."**

"I wanted a demon."

 **"And you got one."**

Dipper bowed mockingly. A triangular clog clicked, twitching into the right orientation. Instinct. The same that ravenously demanded souls also eagerly awaited a deal. Blue flames sprung into his palm. He held it out for Gideon.

 **"What can I do for you?"**

"This is preposterous!" Gideon exclaimed, "The journal didn't say anything about this."

 **"It doesn't say much about lots of things."** Dipper leered, **"But I know lots of things."**

Gideon hesitated.

 **"Wouldn't you like to know lots of things?"**

"Yes."

 **"Well then, this should be simple. I tell you what you want to know in return for a little favor."**

"What favor?"

Gideon wasn't as stupid as he seemed. He did learn. He didn't learn fast enough. Only a short time after the world had become intertwined with the supernatural and he was summing a demon.

 **"I need power. Just a smidgeon should do. I can't give you knowledge without a tiny boost. A small sacrifice. It could be something like a little piggy."**

Gideon thought over it. The request was simple enough. "Deal."

The diminutive showman reached through the wall of magic. Baby-soft hand clasped with gore-encrusted hand. Human and demon. Sapphire flames blossomed as the contract was sealed.

 **"Why don't I fulfill my end of the bargain first."** Dipper suggested, leaning back to float about the circumference of the circle. A little bit of reassurance would put Gideon at ease. Misdirection. He swallowed down the saliva that was building in his mouth. With eyes that could peer through multiple dimensions, he could see the soul of his tiny enemy resting behind his sternum. It was smooth, tinted with the _jallitte_ color of corruption.

"What happened at the Transcendence?"

Even with his third eye closed, Dipper could see the events, clear as day. There was a collision of his human memories and his omniscient perspective. He wrestled between the two, sorting through like he was untangling Mabel's pink skein of yarn. The answer came free.

 **"Bill's spell to merge the mindscape and your dimension failed. My fault, really. But the implosion widened the dimensional rent that resided in Gravity Falls. The supernatural is everywhere now. Deal with it. You aren't that special, kid."**

"What happened to you?"

 **"Bill tried to possess me to preserve his existence. But the magic from the spell had already unwound his being. His powers latched onto me. Changed me. I'm a demon now. I'm special."**

"You don't look like much of a demon."

Dipper shrugged. Repressing the smirk was easy. A performance. Repressing his hunger was another thing altogether.

 **"Anything else."**

"Yes. What do I need to do to make Mabel Pines mine?"

A lazy smirk leaked through. Dipper halted his circuit in front of Gideon. Still reclined, he tipped his head back so the child psychic could see his expression.

 **"I'd like my payment before I answer any more questions. Remember what I said, I can't give you knowledge without a tiny boost."**

Gideon's brow furrowed, "Will you just wait here while I get the sacrifice?"

 **"That's unnecessary."** Dipper's lips pulled back in an unnatural smile. **"It's already here."**

The diminutive psychic didn't even have time to be confused. Dipper threw himself at the barrier. It was spongey, weaker than when he was incorporeal. He had bid his time and gathered his power. Now his fingers broke through the barrier, tearing it wider so that his head and neck forced its way into reality. Magic threaded its way into his limbs, restraining him. Sparks burst like snapped live-wire, frying the threads.

Gideon stumbled back, falling on his butt next to an open notebook with diagrams and incantations.

"What are you doing!?"

 **"Taking my sacrifice."**

A grasping hand brushed Gideon's ankle and he snatched it back.

"Me!?" the child psychic shrieked in disbelief, "We agreed on a pig!"

 **"I said it 'could be'!"** Dipper giggled, **"You're close enough. You're such a pig, Gideon. A** ** _small_** **sacrifice. Haha! I'm so** ** _hungry_** **!"**

"No!" Gideon screamed. He scrambled to his feet, snatching the book up with him. "No. No. No. This can't be happening." Watery eyes hastily scanned the pages. " _Adiuro vos: Dipper Pines!_ "

The spell registered in Dipper's power thirsty mind. A binding. His name reinforced the weak words and poor pronunciation. Even without an additional array, the spell was effective.

Space that he had stretched apart suddenly snapped back, like elastic, tightening over his neck and wrists. Dipper hissed. Flames sputtered and died out. The circle beneath him glowed. Invisible stings pulled him back to the center, slow but relentless.

His stomach boiled. Demanded more. Another soul was so close. Sparks swirled in a vortex, racing under his skin, and alit every muscle and nerve. It fused with his faux human form. He knew, he was human once. Physicality should be easy.

Dipper gave his humanity a shove. Not noodle arms, but ones spiked with power. Not scratched up knees, but ones he didn't even need to use as he defied the laws of nature. Not a freakish forehead, but one that now housed all the secrets of the universe. Still, human once. He recalled what it was like to stand in front of Mabel when Gideon's robot threatened them on the bridge, hundreds of feet above the ground.

He would do it again.

With a growl, he lit the binding stings with blue fire. He hurled himself again at the edge of the circle. He fixed his gaze solely, not on Gideon, but the human's soul. Hungry. His first human soul.

A clap of thunder filled the pine forest. Chalk dissolved into smoke. The circle of candles were buffeted back and smashed apart against the trunks of the surrounding trees.

Predatory, Dipper pounced at Gideon. With inhuman strength, he knocked away the tome the child psychic wielded and grabbed him by the lapels. Dipper's soiled hands contrasted harshly with Gideon's well-pressed suit. Fire simmered under his grip, begging to be let out.

Dipper held it back, enjoying his victory. All the sensations of the real world rebounded off him, tenfold. After isolation, it was pure rapture. He wanted to drag his jagged nails across his arms, raise furrows of red and stripes of gold. He wanted to drive dull knives and let his insides open to air. Hilarious.

Gideon's terror washed over him. Whimpers befitting the sorry excuse of a creature. His soul pulsed under Dipper's grip.

 **"I could go for another soul."** Dipper mused, pointing to the center of his tiny enemy's chest. **"I don't have enough of my own, it seems. Do you want to know how many I've had so far?"**

The diminutive showman shook his head, no.

 **"Oh, come on. Play along."**

He tossed Gideon to the ground, earning a gasp as the child psychic was left without breath. Without preamble, he levitated Gideon, reminiscent of another battle, now reversed. Dipper floated closer, all smiles and beating bat-wings.

"How many?" Gideon choked out.

 **"One."** He bent back his tiny enemy's pinky till it cracked. Gideon cried out.

 **"Two."**

 **"Three."**

Every count was accompanied by another broken digit until Dipper reached 'ten'. Gideon was sobbing. His face ruddy and soaked with tears. No amount of pleading abated Dipper's pace. It was just too hilarious. He put a hand to his chin, thinking.

 **"Out of fingers."**

"Please," Gideon begged, "Please stop. I promise. I'll leave your family alone. Just stop." He cradled his hands to his chest as if that would protect them. His voice was broken and raw.

 **"How about a limb? Let me get rid of those useless arms for you. Eleven."**

The child psychic's objection was cut off by a scream. Arm and blue suit sleeve thudded to the ground. Splashes of viscous liquid went unheard beneath tortured sounds that rent the air. Blood splattered over the dusty forest floor. Gideon wasn't even coherent anymore. He didn't beg. The screams only continued.

Three more swipes of magic and fire.

 **"Twelve."**

 **"Thirteen."**

 **"Fourteen."**

Something that felt like sandpaper rubbed against Dipper's form, wearing him down. The speed of the sparks under his skin faltered. A force drew him toward the mindscape like a vacuum.

Gideon was nothing more than a mess of despicable human flesh. With unerring speed, Dipper propelled himself forward with a beat of his wings. He plunged his hand into his tiny enemy's chest, fingers closed like a vise over his soul.

The diminutive showman's eyes rolled back in his head. Only whites showed. Silent now.

 **"Fifteen."**

Discarding the decapitated stump, Dipper examined the soul resting in his palm. His stomach rumbled. Warring sensations of revulsion and hunger. His diet had consisted solely of demon souls up to this point. Once he did this, there was no going back. He would completely discard his humanity in his search for power. To survive. To grow. To find Mabel.

Ignoring the pull of another dimension, Dipper let the voices in his mind battle.

A twelve – no thirteen – year old boy. Who only wanted to be an adventurer and uncover the mysteries of Gravity Falls vehemently objected to this course of action. They could find another way. Try naturally regenerating their energy. Stop fighting for a while and try reaching Mabel after that.

 _It would take centuries to gain enough. Mabel would be long gone by then. And there's no way to avoid the demons. They're hunting us. Trying to get a taste of fresh blood. They're going to get a taste of pain instead. Hilarious._

It was already done. He decided. Pieces of Gideon were scattered about the woods, unfixable. And the soul in his hand looked delightfully smooth and cool. And he was hungry.

Dipper swallowed his first human soul.

Marvelous. Infinitely better than a demon's. There was no struggle between wills. Gideon had no choice but to submit to a greater power. And now he would suffer more before being released to reincarnate. Served him right. Pig. Dipper cackled, flooded with more energy. He lost it, the mindscape pulled him back. But he had a taste of human and a taste of fresh air. He'd be wanting it back. Very soon.

First, he'd need to remedy the little issue with binding. He'd need a new name, a title. One that gave others no leverage. One that would instill fear.

He perused his mind. Bits and pieces of humanity floated about, driving nausea in his gullet and composing tears in his eyes. His frame shook. So he gathered up fragments of Dipper Pines and locked them away once more. Along the way, a memory cut loose. One of his father pointing out the stars in the sky to convince a younger Dipper Pines that his birthmark made him special.

"I'm special." He muttered.

 **"I'm Alcor."**

TBC

* * *

 _I'm an awful human being. That is all._


	3. 3 Claws

Claws

Frustrating. There was no other word for it. He'd hover in front of her. He'd wave his arms wildly. He'd set the room on fire. Nothing fazed her.

It wasn't Mabel's fault.

It was Dipper's fault. For being stuck on an entirely different plane of existence.

Following her was virtually pointless. Watching over her did no good. It didn't fix the despair and loneliness that seemed permanently etched on her face. It didn't do any good to read her aura with his third eye and see the motes of _pruce_ swirl about her long, now shaggy, brown hair. It didn't make him feel right. He had found Mabel, but raw human emotions wrecked his grip on the world.

They were overpowering.

Eating made him feel better. The occasional minor demon he encountered. The rare summoner looking for Cipher that he dealt with. There was no keeping track of them anymore. Now it seemed the sparks and fire flowed endlessly. He didn't have trouble with wearing thin anymore. His appetite grew to match his meals.

Now the question remained: how could he get Mabel's attention?

Dipper mulled over the question as he prowled through the mindscape, somewhere in the northern tundra of Canada. The world was frozen over. His presence elicited steam along his path.

A screaming head? It seemed like a good idea, but rather impractical. A nightmare? Not when she was already so distressed. Though it would be a decent laugh. Maybe if he couldn't come up with anything better.

Preoccupied by thoughts racing through his forebrain and distracted by a flood of information in his hindbrain, third eye staring wide. Dipper didn't see the demon till he ran into a wall of ice it erected to halt his approach.

Scowling, Dipper pulled his hat off and wrung melted ice-water from the canvas. All three eyes found the offender.

Mahaha, he gathered. Its grotesque shape towered above him even though its feet rested on the ground. Stringy hair obscured milky white eyes. A frozen grimace made it appear as if it were smiling. Giggles tittered out of its throat, though Dipper could read in Mahaha's aura that it was ticked. Its bare body was laced with sinew and protracted claws almost doubled the length of its arms.

Dipper adjusted his hat back on his head. He stared down the other demon, asserting dominance by forcing the other to break the silence.

 **"What are you doing in my territory?"** the beast growled.

Dipper smirked. **"What does it look like?"**

Mahaha's confusion overwrote his irritated aura with plain colors of _qwmytr_. **"I don't know."**

Dipper rolled his eyes. **"I was minding my own business. Now I'll probably eat you. That is what every demon I've met has tried to do to me."**

The beast dipped its head, a laugh falling from its still mouth, as if it expected such an answer. **"Demons do take pleasure in both 'minding their own business' and eating. I usually adhere to the first. But if you wish to challenge me, then I accept."**

 **"Feel confident, Mahaha?"**

Colors of surprise filtered into the beast's aura. But it remained statuesque.

Dipper tipped his head with a silted smile.

 **"Mahaha. Mahaha. Mahaha. Don't you know my name?"**

The ice demon shifted. Another inadvertent giggle.

 **"I know of many of our kind. But I have never seen a demon that appeared so human. Who are you?"**

 **"Alcor."** Dipper's voice heated the permafrost a few degrees. Blue plumes of fire broke through fissures in the ground. He lifted his head and smiled. Golden sparks jumped between his fingers, bent into hooks.

 **"I have never head of you."**

 **"News doesn't get around when all those who know are eaten."**

Mahaha let out a guffaw. An actual laugh this time. Amusement radiated in the beast's aura, glowing _neatl_. Its mammoth form shook, blue skin sending snow flurries onto the ground, snuffing fire. Icicle claws flashed in the ambient light of the mindscape.

 **"I am an isolated demon."** Mahaha chuckled. **"But I know an empty boast when I hear it. Impossible for an insignificant creature like yourself to eat their opponents. You appear as no more than a child."**

 **"Mahaha."** Dipper sounded as patronizing as possible. He tapped his forehead, next to his golden eye. **"I know lots of things. And I know the truth when I hear it. Your name. Your weaknesses. Your death. My eyes sees all."**

 **"Impossible."** The ice demon scoffed. **"Omnipotence is only for the most powerful and oldest of demons. There is no way a fledgling would wield it."**

 **"Feel confident, Mahaha?"** Dipper repeated, **"Then challenge me."**

The beast bristled, while hair borne by an invisible force as it swirled about its head. Cloudy eyes narrowed. Its stance shifted. Another giggle reverberated in its throat.

 **"You have it backwards, Alcor. I believe you should challenge me."**

Dipper shrugged.

His flippancy didn't please the ice demon. It roared, rocking the tundra. It appeared to grow even more, towering higher than the pines in Gravity Falls. Matted dreads of white hung over its eyes and its ever present smile. Grey clouds filled the skies of the mindscape.

Dipper whistled in appreciation. Dramatics. Not bad.

It was impressive. But it wasn't intimidating. Dipper had survived nearly half a year with nothing by his threadbare, summer attire. Almost six months with a human form, mercilessly driven by the burning of a thousand suns below his skin. All those weeks with only powerful, leathery wings at his demonic disposal. It was by choice.

Gaining corporeality had been his priority.

But he could spare some energy to educate Mahaha. He drew portions of sparks into his hands, so his third eye was nearly blinded by the intensity. It was hot. Unlike his flames. Pure power scorched through his fingers and up into their tips. Dipper let them melt until they were fluid, and then reshaped them. He solidified the flesh when it met his standards. His hands smoked.

The beast hadn't even noticed Dipper's transformation. Swinging behemoth-like arms, it tried to smash Dipper into the permafrost.

As graceful as a dancer, Dipper beat his wings. He spun his body out of reach of the first arm and dove under the grip of the second. His size was barely comparable to the giant, making every evasion simple.

Mahaha. Hilarious. It was funny how dumb he was.

Sinewy, frosted legs blurred as the ice demon reversed its footing to track Dipper's movements. It tried to kick him out of the air. But Dipper's every maneuver was fluid. He rolled with the slipstream off its skin, reaching out fresh claws to drag them along the beast's ankle, pressing them in deep.

Razor points, diamond hard, flayed open antarctic skin, tendons, ligaments, and vasculature. Freezing, blue blood sprayed with both the force of the wound and the resulting writhing of the giant. Dipper pulled back to hover and survey his work.

His claws, fine tips no longer than regular nails were wickedly sharp. Now covered in ichor, akin to liquid Helium. Expending a mote of magic, he flicked his wrist and dispersed the icy blood.

Mahaha had collapsed to one knee. One eye was visible through his lanky hair. Its back heaved, in both anger and the drain of healing. The profound wound flashed with violet lightning, like that of a blizzard. Gargantuan fists tightened.

Dipper cocked his head. **"Where is your soul?"**

The beast ignored his question. **"Claws?"**

 **"Yes."**

 **"When?"**

 **"Just now."**

 **"Impossible."**

 **"Not impossible."**

 **"Who are you?"**

Dipper leered, **"Alcor."**

If Mahaha had been about to say something further, it was unable. Its form flickered, like a bad connection. The gray colors of the mindscape encroached upon the ice demon's features. A spear of blue light stabbed into its left chest, and Dipper could feel the pull from where he hovered a few paces away.

Sapphire flames bloomed in both his palms. No way. Mahaha was not getting out of this fight with a summons!

Dipper lunged forward, wings growing to afford him a more expansive downward stroke. Invisible fingers tugged at his hair and clothes with the intensity of his charge, a faux wind. His hand reached out, digging into the ice demon's chest, driven home by Dipper's momentum and claws. A laugh mingled with a scream ripped from the beast's throat and echoed over the expanse of the tundra.

Both demons were dragged into the summons.

Cold was the first thing that registered on Dipper's bare arms. Tundra winds cut through the fine material of his t-shirt. Circulating the sparks under his skin helped, if only a little.

One human, standing at the edge of the circle wore surprise plain on her face. She didn't seem to be expecting a boy, who looked no older than thirteen, appearing at the center of the array.

She was wrapped in clothes that were certainly warmer than Dipper's attire. He could just make out a face. Smooth, dark skin and thick, black hair. She spoke, and the words registered in Dipper's mind of their own accord.

 _"You're not Mahaha."_

 _"No."_

 _"Where is he?"_

Dipper held up the frosty soul of her liege. It had already grown icicles. They tinkled with the movement of his claws.

 _"I suspected as much."_

Dipper shot her a quizzical look.

 _"He's a dumb demon."_

Dipper threw back his head and laughed. It resounded within the spacious abode. It colored the flames in the hearth royal blue. He liked this woman. She was refreshingly perspicacious.

 _"Why are you here?"_ She asked when he was done.

 _"I didn't want to let Mahaha get away."_

She nodded as if it made perfect sense. Which only made Dipper stifle another giggle with his hand.

 _"Will you eat him now?"_

 ** _"Perhaps."_**

 _"I am sorry to disturb you."_

 ** _"Alcor."_**

 _"I am sorry to disturb you, Alcor."_

 _"Um, it's fine. Did you need something?"_

 _"What?"_ For the first time, the woman looked ruffled.

 _"You summoned a demon. Did you need something? A deal, perhaps?"_

Her lips curled into a half smile. Mysterious. It finally clicked in Dipper's brain. Her aura was missing, or perhaps more accurately, suppressed. He had to strain is all-seeing eye to catch a snatch of her name, Patuktuq. _Ice Crystals_.

 _"No."_

 _"No? Then why summon Mahaha?"_

 _"I was not being facetious when I said he was a dumb demon. I stumbled upon him long ago, as a child, and managed to evade him. But there came I time when I summoned him for assistance. I was able to save my people, in exchange for my soul, under the conditions that my dues be collected on the night of a blue moon. So I spend the years preparing stories, I summon Mahaha, and entrance him with a tale while the second moon passes overhead. This is the fourth time I have done so."_

Dipper floated, legs crossed underneath him, closer to the edge of the circle. The circumference pressed against him, but it was like a light pressure rather than a rude shove. It wouldn't be difficult to pass through. But this woman had no soul to take.

Eyes alight, he asked, _"Could you tell me your story?"_

 _"And what will I get in return?"_

 _"I'll eat Mahaha's soul and yours will be freed."_

Patuktuq shook her head like a chiding mother.

 _"Dreambender, you can do better than that."_

 _"What did you call me?"_

 _"Alcor the Dreambender. There's triangles and stars in your aura. There's no other demon you could be."_

Dipper lunged at the woman, blue fire igniting all the candles about the array. **_"How did you know that?"_** His claws dug into the invisible barrier, it's resistance like jelly beneath his grip.

 _"The sights tell me many things. Even before the world changed. It is how I first met Mahaha. After The Day, I now see prophecies. You are but a spark of the roaring forest fire you are destined to be. But you can't very well reach that point without proper contracts."_

Alcor's third eye jolted to catch up with Patuktuq's visions. Darkness. A void that consumed all. Blackened days and rocked foundations of the earth. A catalyst that would change everything. Someday. Eons away. Even now. Time melted together. Meaningless.

Information rushed, roared, and raced out of control. He brought his hands to his head, claws digging into his skin so hot, gold, blood ran between his fingers. An inhuman keen slipped out. Space began to bleed into the ether and condense out of the atmosphere like a sickness.

With a terrific effort, Dipper forced his third eye shut. His remaining two were narrowed as he fixed them on the woman – seer and storyteller.

 ** _"Tell me_. _"_ ** He hissed. **_"What would you deem to be a more appropriate contract?"_**

Patuktuq folded her arms over her chest, unimpressed.

 _"Free my soul and I will tell the world of Alcor the Dreambender."_

 ** _"A publicity agent?"_** Alcor cackled.

 _"One you obviously need."_

For once, two halves of him collided in agreement. Sensible.

 ** _"Deal!"_**

Sapphire flames swathed Alcor's hand, claws glinting in the light. Patuktuq reached out to clasp it. And upon contact, Dipper could feel what she could hide from his eyes. She had no true regard for her soul. She would sell it again if the situation required it. Her hand was strong. Every move she made was definitive and final. She never second-guessed herself. Not even now.

Nothing like himself.

But that was neither here nor there. He focused on reversing the passage he'd taken before. Magic squished and swirled, dumping him back out into the tundra of the mindscape. His wings stretched wide to steady himself. But he zeroed in on that sensation for future reference. That blip.

The frozen soul of Mahaha was still clutched in his other hand. The more he looked at it, the more it reminded him of the blue raspberry freezie pops that he and Mabel used to do rock-paper-scissors for in the summertime. But like an artic wind, the loss of corporeality cut through him again. It seemed, at this point, he couldn't punch through to reality without a summons.

Better remedy that.

Dipper place the soul on the ground, and within seconds, the permafrost had crept up to cover its shimmery surface. It pulsed. Wiry limbs bloomed from the soul, scrabbling like an insect attempting to right itself. Claws of icicles were dwarfed compared to their previous glory. White hair was stiff with fresh flakes of snow. Mahaha was no bigger than a snow cat.

Milky eyes and gruesome smile tipped sideways as the beast canted its head in Alcor's direction.

 **"What is the meaning of this?"**

 **"A deal."**

A tiny, echoing laugh filled the expectant silence.

 **"You release the soul of the storyteller and you spread the name Alcor the Dreambender."** Alcor flexed his clawed fingers meaningfully. Vicious points gleamed. **"We have no need to seal the deal. This is final: follow through or I will tear you down and eat you."**

TBC

* * *

 _Please enjoy this slightly less-gory chapter :\_

 _Special thanks to the guest review who assured me that I was not a terrible person and that I was sitting on another chapter. It's been kinda slow lately since I'm struggling with inspiration for the last few chapters (I was projecting this would be 6 chapters sooooo...). There might be a little bit of a wait! ;(_


	4. 4 Suit

Suit

The pull was familiar now. Not unwelcome. But Dipper still growled with irritation at its interruption.

He'd noticed how his voice was now accompanied by a reverb. With enough volume, it could rattle the pine forests of Gravity Falls and send every creature in a ten mile radius running. If he could do that from a dimension away, it made sense to think he could do more. But he'd have to do more practice at another time.

Alcor's third eye opened to peer down the line of power like it was the scope of a sniper rifle. It may as well have been. The glow effused in his vision to provide the sights of something new.

A smirk pulled at his lips and displayed all his rounded, human teeth. Oh, this would be hilarious.

The pull grew stronger, pinching at the illusionary skin of his forehead. Drawing his soul to its destination, he let the summons run its course.

He'd fully prepared himself for his arrival. Lighting the circle with blinding, blue-white light. Letting the candles smoke more than physically possible. Creating an aura of power, foreboding, and death. In the real world, the stench of sulfur clung to his decimated clothes. Leathery wings sung as they cut through the air. Claws snapped as he dismissed the theatrics. Too much was too much.

And there he floated in the center of a clearly experimental circle. There were smudges of chalk where the writers had worked out symbols through trial and error. Blood stained the floor, brown in places where it was old and dried. The people gathered wore expressions of exhaustion and triumph. Proverbially: _finally._

Yes. People. That was plural.

Alcor had been summoned by his first cult.

Eleven sets of eyes zeroed in on him and he could feel the way their souls dropped in disappointment when they took him in. A floating boy, yes. But a powerful demon, no. He didn't look like much beyond his wings and his claws. Even those were small in comparison to ostentatiously flamboyant decorations that was customary of his kind.

"Charles!" One snapped to another, "You screwed up. Again!"

"I've told you a million times. We can't put much stock in some second-rate, good for nothing folklorist from Canada!"

"She said the research would lead us to the most powerful demon in existence."

"Does this look like the most powerful demon in existence? I'd say no."

 **"I can hear you, fools."** Dipper narrowed his eyes at the two arguing. It didn't do much good to try and tell them apart by their appearances. Every member was wearing a thick robe and hood, uniform from their head to their toes. Instead, he read their souls, distinguishing them by their prominent colors.

Exasperation – otherwise known as Charles – glanced up at Alcor. Beneath his hood, he ran his eyes up and down. "Who… no. What are you?

A stubborn part of Dipper didn't feel like answering the cultist when he used that tone. A demonic part of Alcor didn't want to disclose such information without a deal.

 _Burn him alive and eat his soul._

No, Patuktuq had provided him with this opportunity. Deals to help him grow in strength and fame. He was about to answer when the woman – Irritation – filled the silence.

"It's a child. Obviously, Charles, if you're too stupid to see that then you shouldn't be designing the array."

The other members of the cult stepped away from the circumference of the circle as Exasperation and Irritation locked into a glaring contest, oblivious. They missed the way sparks began to snap in streams over Alcor's shoulders. An invisible force whipped at his vest and hair. They missed the way a third eye, outlined in gold, widened and stared at the arguing pair.

 **"ENOUGH!"** Dipper roared with the shouting reached an unbearable level.

Silence, aside from the cackling of flames that he'd unconsciously created in his hands, reigned.

 **"You summoned a demon. Now hows about you stop wasting time and make a deal."** He held one hand out to Irritation. **"What stupid human desire do you have?"**

"You don't look like a demon." She muttered.

Alcor leered. **"The Transcendence happened, what? Seven months ago. Geez. How much do you think is actually known about our kind?"**

"Not much." Exasperation answered instead, "Which is why we are doing as much research as we can now. Before long, the government will probably make it illegal or something like that."

 **"Now we're talking. Knowledge?"** He examined the way his claws caught the light in his flames. **"I can do that."**

Exasperation, the educated one apparently, frowned, "That's for upper class demons. Again, who are you?"

Dipper flared his wings and sucked the light from the air of the basement. **"I am Alcor the Dreambender."** His voice echoed and dislodged dust from the ceiling.

Some sort of discreet tension flowed out of the room. At the unfamiliar title, the cult had made the assumption they were dealing with a low class demon. How very wrong they were.

 _Kill them for their impertinence._

Whatever human part of Dipper that leaked through tried to rationally point out that such action was pointless and completely unmerited. They didn't deserve it. At least not yet. They hadn't made any sort of egotistical request. But to his demon part, this didn't matter.

"I've never heard of you." Exasperation was saying.

In the company of humans, Dipper began to realize exactly how much he had changed. He had no hesitation. He saw no worth in their souls but pure energy for consumption. He craved to tear them limb from limb. Their thoughts were more transparent than glass.

"Hello?"

They were like ants. Transient. Ephemeral. Insignificant.

"Alcor?"

They were food. And Alcor was hungry.

A hand waved in front of his face and Alcor snapped out of his thoughts. The action was accompanied by the serendipitous sound of Exasperation's wrist as it too snapped. The man wouldn't be waving it in about again. Served him right. Alcor ignored the startled squawk of pain. The man hissed and cradled his arm, putting forth the fantastic effort of smothering any more sounds.

Gathering his power, Alcor let it ooze out into his aura. It's caustic, demonic presence sizzled against the barrier of the circle. He reached his clawed hand out and rested it on the thin membrane, the magic no more than a film of oil beneath his palm. He breathed in furious joy.

It was too easy.

Unlike any demon to precede him, Dipper had grown like an upstart weed. Alcor perused the information available to him. A ranking system that the humans would soon develop put him in the ninetieth percentile in respect to power, and that was in less than a year!

Just like every time before, the barrier clung to his skin as he pushed through. An extra jolt of magic incinerated the remaining scum. Floating onto the human plane, Dipper snapped his wings wide and stretched his claws.

The existential feeling of the stale basement air filled his faux lungs and ran in nearly indiscernible streams across his skin. A giggle expunged Dipper's first breath.

 **"Terrific!"** Alcor said, **"This is much better! Now…"** he held out his hand to Irritation, **"Let's make a deal."**

Irritation, the woman, would have been cowering if she had known anything about summoning. Really, it was not typical for a demon to emerge from a protective circle. But her attention glazed right over that fact. Instead, it focused on the cyan flames roiling over his hands and the golden sparks racing over his body like static.

Like a barrage of gunfire, _jallitte_ shot from her aura.

Maybe Exasperation had been summoning Alcor for research, but Irritation had been on a quest for power. And she had found it.

"I want the ability to gain dominion over creatures of the Transcendence."

 **"That's a broad request."** Dipper purred, **"To include everything you speak of, I'll need compensation."**

"Even before the Transcendence, I knew that demons required deals." Irritation scoffed, "What will it be?"

 **"I'm a sensible demon. Not but a few souls. With dominion over the creatures of the Transcendence, that should be simple!"**

"Deal!" The woman declared with a wide smile.

 **"Deal."** Alcor agreed with a wide smile to match.

Rich. This was just rich. With a handshake, Dipper could see everything. Irritation's perceived victory. Irritation's active planning. _A simple child is so easy to fool._ Irritation's future downfall, only seconds away.

Alcor sent the heat that flowed under his skin into his hand and through their contact. Irritation's smug expression turned to one of surprise, then bewilderment, then fear. A keen built in her throat, growing louder and higher. She tried to snatch her hand away, the body's reflex to being burned. But Alcor dug his claws into her skin, holding tight even as blood splashed to the floor and added to the collection of stains.

 **"This is what you wanted."** Glee danced in his eyes as he pulled her close and zipped her lips shut with a distortion of reality, **"Take it."**

The woman shook her head, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes and streaking down her face. Her hand was now molted with red and gold. Clear puss gathered into rivulets and dripped to the floor. Flashes of blue alit her irises. A supernatural wind whipped around them.

Alcor cut the connection off abruptly. A mere flick of his hand sent Irritation's limp body skittering off to the side, robe collecting dust and dried blood up off the basement floor. The magical rebound gave him a heady rush. Irritation did not fare so well.

Outside of the statuesque circle of her followers, Irritation vomited. Masses of magic, clots of blood, and other assorted fluids from her stomach added to the mess on the floor. Alcor wrinkled his nose.

 **"You don't seem to be** ** _hand_** **ling it well."** he remarked, both peevishly and amusedly.

No one laughed.

Irritation's wounded extremity had crystalized, geometric golden patterns rose all the way past her elbow. The joints didn't move. In the sapphire fire of the basement, the refraction of light blinked like thousands of eyes.

 **"Now, I would like my compensation."**

"Just go!" Irritation sniffled, voice raw despite her inability to scream during the transformation. Her lips were back to normal, but they were dry, drawn, and pale. "Nab some nasty pixies or stupid gnomes on your way back to your realm!"

Alcor snarled at her impudence, **"I gave you a power. Now, use it to pay your dues."**

The woman lifted her ruined hand, staring at it like the foreign object it had become. Her brow shifted as she focused on its burning magic. But after a short effort, she gave up, sweating gold.

"It doesn't work."

 **"It certainly does."**

"No it doesn't! You cheating, lying demon!"

 **"Don't blame me. I gave you what you wanted. But demon magic is powerful and corrosive. If you don't have the will to control it, it will kill you. Good luck."** Dipper turned on the other occupants of the room, **"In the meantime, I guess I will help myself."**

The collection of other humans retreated from the child-like demon before them.

Exasperation, his broken wrist still cradled to his chest, shifted his gaze between Dipper and Irritation. On the waves of exchanges, Alcor could read concern leak from his aura. Despite their arguments, it seemed that the two had a connection… like siblings.

"Not them!" Irritation objected, voice rasping. She was deteriorating rapidly. Heart beating hundreds of times per minute and muscles twitching spasmodically, the magic he'd passed to her consumed her life force. "They aren't even creatures of the Transcendence!"

Dipper waved her away, **"We are all 'creatures of the Transcendence'. This is the world we live in now, and we all live in this world. Everything and Everyone is changed. Besides, you didn't bother to distinguish which souls would be your payment. It could have even been your own, stupid human, but to take your soul right now would be pointless."**

He flexed his claws, pressing them out so they grew long and sharp. His grin stretched unnaturally. He spread his wings wide and they cast shadows over his victims. They hadn't done anything. Wrong place. Wrong time. _Poor humans_ , his demon side cackled without any pity. The deal had been postponed long enough already. The magic in his belly was souring, like he had the stomach flu.

Their ends were swift, though not without the proper dose of their horror and his entertainment. Fleshbags, the lot of them. How troublesome when all he wanted was the soul. Souls that were cool and smooth against his overheated skin. Souls that filled him, brimming with power, satiating his appetite.

The basement was beyond salvageable. Gore pasted the walls, entrails had joined the stains on the floor, remains dangled from the rafters. The scent of sulfur and burned flesh choked the air. Irritation and Exasperation huddled against each other, not spared the sight or the mess. Eyes were glassy and vacant, unable to look away; robes were plastered, covered in remnants and carnage.

All of it was so liberating. Chaos.

With only two souls left, Dipper could plainly see with his third eye. Brother held sister, dying in his arms. Feverish, sweating gold, and soul fading away. His humanity wondered if this is what it had been like when Bill had possessed him at the moment of the Transcendence.

Had Mabel even had a body to bury?

The thought, though errant, soon consumed him. His every thought. His omniscience searched through the past. His power skipped, like heartbeats. The scene flickered behind his third eye.

Dipper wanted it to stop.

Powerless.

Human.

Dying.

"Take care of her." He choked out before retreating to the mindscape.

No. No. No. _NO!_

Dipper couldn't be a child. But he couldn't be a demon either. Alcor could be something else entirely. And he could blindside every mortal that crossed his path. Fool them. Cheat them. Swindle them. Like… like Grunkle Stan had. It was a means to an end. Right?

Alcor surveyed his decimated clothes. Child? Hardly.

Flames encased him, almost sentient, like they had been waiting for him to come to this realization.

 _We are something more._

 _We are incomprehensible._

 _We reflect humanity, trust._

 _But we are not._

The marshmallow vest, with all the stuffing falling from holes in the material, grew fitted. Clothes dissolved into ash, then darkened to midnight and twinkled with stars. Sneakers swapped for snazzy shoes, toed in gold. The trademark, pine tree hat exchanged for a trademark, top hat.

Dipper's suit – Alcor's suit – was darker than the void of the universe. Triangular, gold accents were constantly illuminated by unidentifiable light. Obsidian gloves covered his hands, hiding the way viscous blood dripped off them in the sight of his third eye.

For someone who had never enjoyed formalwear, he didn't question why this meticulous appearance was the epitome of comfort. His suit was perfect. He didn't need his reflection to know that he was dapper as hell, but he summoned a mirror anyway.

It was the perfect distraction. Alcor soon dismissed the scene of one sibling cradling another.

TBC

* * *

 _It's rather pitiful, but I only make progress on this story when I'm stressed – it seems to be the best time to write graphic stuff. Two more chapters to go!_


	5. 5 Teeth

Teeth

Time was meaningless and meaning had no meaning. Everything, it seemed, meandered on.

But Alcor wasn't so concerned with that. There were other things to preoccupy him. Mabel's paints and yarn needed organized, again. A summons was pulling him to the other half of the globe. The sense of another demon trailing him niggled at the base of his skull.

There was so much to do.

Which is why Dipper was not amused by the interruption he foresaw taking place in exactly forty-one seconds. Not. At. All. Granted, nothing should be able to interrupt him. He was a powerful demon. But just this once, he would concede that this power surpassed his. He would need a plan.

Taking the home-field advantage, Alcor blipped himself to his mindscape, not pausing for a moment to take in the scenery. His mindscape clung to his humanity more than anything else. The Mystery Shack, that stood proud and sturdy in the real world, was a mere dilapidated shadow of itself here. Gray-scale, rotting wood composed the walls. Through the ruined gaps, he caught glimpses of doors and memories. He turned away.

Instead, Dipper cast his eyes around to the field and forests surrounding the Mystery Shack. In the real world, they would be teaming with the life of the supernatural. Here, in the mindscape, denizens of dreams and nightmares lurked in the shadows. He could see their red eyes, glowing like rubies in the dark.

Alcor smirked.

Projecting orders straight into their minds, he didn't leave them free to agree or disagree. Not that they would object to the violence he had impressed upon them. No. He simply reveled in the authority he held over them.

Speaking of which.

In a blast of fluorescent green light, a collection of creatures entered Dipper's mindscape. Troops of uniformed humans, holding laser guns and emblazoned with patches of the time police, stood rigidly in perfect formation. And behind them, in his floating high-chair, was the Time Baby himself.

Alcor felt disgust creep up inside of him that he didn't remember feeling at their last meeting. He and Mabel had been solely focused on winning the time wish for Soos. They hadn't given the godlike ruler of the future a second thought.

Now was very different.

Dipper maintained his cool, floating lackadaisically back into the old sofa on the porch of the Mystery Shack.

 **"The Time Police."** He sneered, **"Do you have a warrant to search my mindscape or is this just breaking and entering by those with power who abuse it?"**

"If there is anyone with power who is abusing it, it is you, Dipper Pines!" A squeaky voice proclaimed. A sharp glance from Alcor not only shut him up, but identified the man as Blendin Blandin.

 **"Do tell."** Alcor purred, knowing Blendin had been scared into silence and would provide no further accusations. Dipper straightened the cuffs on the sleeves of his suit, seemingly ignoring the small army on his doorstep.

Needless to say, the Time Baby did not appreciate his attitude.

"Dipper Pines…" Time Baby boomed, in his deep, loud voice.

 **"It's Alcor the Dreambender."** Dipper snapped.

"Which is one of the reasons I have come." Time Baby went on, "While the advent of the Transcendence is a keynote past event that has been recorded in history for many millennia, it is your actions, Dipper Pines, that are changing the future. For the worse. This construct you are creating – Alcor the Dreambender – wreaks nothing but chaos and destruction."

The immortal baby's forehead glowed, casting a projection shaped like an hourglass on the Mystery Shack, with Dipper at its center.

"In my great and powerful name," Time Baby commanded, "I order to stop your pursuits of the real realm and abide by the preordained demonic rules. Accept what you are now. Accept that you will never have a physical form again. Accept my conditions and I will not erase you from every dimension in the known multiverse."

Alcor fumed. This _baby_ , this _infant_ , was asking to abandon everything that made him different. His humanity. His drive. His sister. Was he just supposed to lie down and accept that he would never see Mabel again? She was _his_ sister. And no one would take that away from him.

 **"This is the past."** Alcor growled, **"You have not even been born yet, you insufferable brat. To think that you can give me orders. Preposterous. You have no dominion here."**

"I am a god of the next age." Time Baby responded. "I am a ruler of time. And you, a mere child, are upsetting the stream of all futures. You have deviated from your course with your lack of morality and human decency."

Dipper laughed. Loud, roaring guffaws that shook the mindscape. The weather vane on the Mystery Shack spun faster than it would in a hurricane. The ground shook. In the distance, the totem pole grew legs and wandered off into the woods, groaning about mangy, magic men.

Dipper stopped as abruptly as he started, dropping his voice into a low hiss, **"And therein lies the true paradox. You say that my existence had deviated from its intended course. An existence where I am much more human and** ** _decent_** **. But your conditions are that I am to adhere to my newfound nature. To act the part of a demon. I cannot be both."**

"Do you not realize? You are a hybrid of sorts. Though much more demon than human."

 **"Ha! I know that very well."** Alcor stood, summoning his cane to his hands, **"I am everything Bill Cipher craved to be. I am not 'a mere child' as you so ignorantly assumed. I am fire and death. I am power and life. I am an exponential function. And I am a resident of two worlds. They will be mine. I will have it no other way."**

"So be it, Dipper Pines, you condemn yourself." Time Baby boomed. "Men, spread out! Prepare the array!"

From the information gleaned off the minds of the weak humans, Dipper could see plans for the magic circle they were planning to create. Time Baby had extensive knowledge of the future, of demonology, and of Dipper's name. With all those elements, he could create a sound circle that could easily keep Alcor trapped in his own mindscape for centuries.

The demon inside of him raged at the thought of being caged like an animal.

The human inside of him worried that he would never see Mabel again.

 **"You!"** Alcor, buoyed by his rage, floated higher off the ground, almost even with the god of the future, **"You call me 'a mere child' but you are nothing more than a spoiled infant that must be placated every time he cries."**

Ignoring the gasps of the Time Police at his impertinence, Dipper continued.

 **"The reason you have taken issue with me is not because I am too powerful for your comfort, but that my presence has so completely changed the future that YOU NO LONGER EXIST!"**

Alcor's third eye slid open to pin the Time Baby with its stare. He knew he was right.

 **"You've come to my realm, desperate. This is your last shot at survival. You're unable to accept that the past is not going according to plan. But let me remind you: THE PAST WAS HERE FIRST! You have no right to interfere. If anything, your interference is what made this happen."**

Dipper slashed a hand through the air. A signal.

 **"I will not pay the price for your mistakes. And I will not lie down and accept the conditions that you have set up to save your own twisted future. You think you can punish me for things I have not yet done? You are wrong!"**

From the surrounding pine trees, the nightmares burst forth. Sheep of every shape and size. Covered in eldritch eyes, teeth, tentacles, and wings they made a horrific sight. With black clouds of terror, they smothered the forces of the Time Police. Discordant screams rang out as the victims were forced to live out their worst fears in their heads. The nightmare sheep wasted no time in feeding on their subdued victims.

Souls, in different shades of blue, floated free of their bloody and mangled bodies, like ghost lights. Respectfully, the members of Dipper's flock had left the best part for their master. And now, he was in no danger of being bound.

But the danger had not been completely eliminated. The Time Baby was still powerful enough, alone, to subdue him. He was still a threat.

Alcor did not plan on allowing that threat to continue.

A glance at the bloody maw of a nearby nightmare gave Dipper inspiration. Gathering up the souls unto himself, Dipper reached out with aura and consumed them whole. He didn't have time to indulge in the pleasure of enjoying them. The Time Baby was waiting, and he was getting very impatient.

With a snap of his fingers, Alcor internalized the fresh rush of energy, and Time Baby took that moment to act.

A wide beam of green light swept over the space that Dipper had occupied only milliseconds before. Everything the light touched sizzled and expanded outward in an immense, delayed explosion. Shrapnel, dense bits of mindscape matter, drilled into Dipper's side. Whatever energy Time Baby had used, must have been infused with temporal magic. The pieces imbedded in Dipper's form degenerated into liquid galaxies – like the contents of the Time Baby's bottle.

It burned, in a way nothing had ever burned before, both in his human and demon form. Alcor shrieked in indignation, attempting to swipe it off of him, though it only smeared the matter onto his hands as well.

Golden eyes simmered with intense heat and hatred as they turned on Time Baby. Though the baby's chubby face wasn't capable of such an expression, Dipper was sure he was smirking. He thought his godlike powers gave him the upper hand.

 _But with a changing future, how much does he really know? He came here thinking he could put a stop to us, prevent us from growing stronger._

 _Not gonna happen._ Dipper thought stubbornly.

He set his hands alight, blue flames vaporizing the liquid galaxy from his gloves. The wounds in his side were still healing, but he didn't have time to wait around for that to happen. Time Baby wouldn't permit it anyway.

He'd have to multitask.

Time Baby's mind beam swept across the clearing that contained the Mystery Shack yet again, dealing more damage to the derelict structure as Alcor successfully dodged. Rolling with the turbulence of the explosion, Alcor focused his third eye on his enemy, looking for weaknesses, openings, and above all, his soul. Weaving magic as he went and tossing fire in the mix added to the mayhem, also preventing Time Baby from moving his high-chair overmuch. The disadvantage of being big, Dipper thought.

Viscous, black matter, littered with stars and nebulae, soaked Dipper's mindscape. It was a horrid violation of his privacy. His mindscape was the one place were no creatures, save the nightmares and dreams, could tread. It was one place he had found to escape his fellow demons.

His ire was palpable in the way his wings were taught, his claws were bent and ready, and his teeth were clenched. Teeth. Alcor was suddenly successful in shattering the mental barriers that had been blocking his sight, overcoming the wards protecting the Time Baby.

It took him back a bit.

Time Baby truly was a godlike creature. Something almost as eternal as he was. Power flowed under his chubby skin in putrid greens and indigo galaxies. The baby didn't care a mote for the loss of his troops. His main focus was bringing down the demon in front of him, restoring order to his future, and maintaining the power he wielded through the time police. The baby had singular focus despite his broad knowledge.

Dipper had not been far off in calling Time Baby selfish.

Dipper also saw his soul.

It was large, practically filling the baby's disproportionately large head. Perhaps that was why he remained in such an infantile form. It's steady glow of radioactive green made Dipper squint his physical eyes subconsciously, even though the light of the baby's soul was purely metaphysical.

 _Good thing we have such an appetite._

Even after the infantry men, Alcor had room for more in his vast stomach. But it wouldn't be easy to swallow, no matter how he did it.

 _Teeth_.

Tear him apart.

 _You are the higher power._

The world would become his domain. That was why the Time Baby was here in the first place. To stop that from happening. Which meant that someday, there would be no greater power, no greater authority than Alcor. Godlike indeed.

Alcor grinned at the thought. Instinctively, his power rushed through him, changing him.

If this was some kind of battle for the Alpha, then he would win at all costs.

Dipper's teeth grew loose, coming detatched with the barest touch of his tongue. Blood and tissue ridden pearly whites fell to the ground, and Dipper spat out the last of them to assist in the process. In their place, rows of sharp, pointed teeth grew. Alcor bared his fangs, now shark-like, with animalistic belligerence.

 **"I might actually feel full after this meal."** He cackled.

"Fool." Time Baby was monotone as always, "A human turned demon cannot best me. No star has ever portended such a fate."

 **"The stars are mine."** Alcor hissed savagely through his teeth, **"Not yours to make demands of. Just as you cannot make demands of me!"**

"Then I will make no demands, Dipper Pines. Just this one decree: die."

In an effort that must have cost much of his strength, Time Baby threw blast wide enough to engulf the expanse of the mindscape. There was no running from this attack. But Alcor wasn't running.

The magic he'd been weaving throughout the entire fight was now channeled through his came. In one swift motion, Alcor drew the hidden sword from the length of the shaft. It shone with gold lightning, and slashed it through Time Baby's onslaught, quick and clean. Energy snapped in whirling torrents, mixing green and gold, as it funneled around him. But his demon magic held. It corrupted the green, turning it one hundred and eighty degrees, back on its master. The additive power of both his own attack and Alcor's was enough to deal a crippling blow.

Time Baby dissolved into his component atoms. His metal high-chair crashed to the ground, no longer fueled by its master's presence. His gigantic soul thrummed, pulling up its vestiges of power to reform a physical body.

 _I bow to no authority_.

Alcor pounced on the Time Baby's soul. It was nearly the size of that ball of yarn he'd once seen on a road trip with Mabel and Grunkle Stan. With ferocious glee, he sunk his fangs into it and tore tremendous pieces loose, swallowing them in bits. It felt like gelatin and tasted like lime and ghost peppers. And the power that sloughed off of it as he digested was pure ecstasy.

 _I answer to no one._

And I take what is mine.

TBC

* * *

 _So I killed the Time Baby. So did Bill. Gravity Falls has really been going wild lately, it kinda takes me aback that it's on children's television. Anyway, as I've said before, I tend to crank these out when I've got stuff going on in my life. Lately, I've been kinda struggling with authority, so this was a fun way to vent. Happy reading!_


	6. 6 Eyes

Eyes

"Coming, Mom!" Mabel answered the call in her usual manner – by screaming through the floor boards.

It was the first thing Alcor processed when he blipped into her room, stomach full on temporal and gravitational magic. Like a galaxy swirling inside him. Because he no longer had organs to process his meals. The acquired energy melded with his own and waited. Waited to be used.

And it wouldn't wait long now.

Mabel minimized the window on her laptop, but left it open as she rose from her desk and crossed the room to her door. Her gaze swept the room, lingering on her closet and the lockbox she kept under her bed. Dipper knew that she was double checking to make sure they were closed and hidden.

She had been doing that a lot lately.

By some instinct, Mabel met his eyes. He knew that she couldn't see him – not yet – but that didn't change the fact that she seemed to have some sense of where he was. What could it mean?

At some point, there had been wards, but they never did much as far as Alcor had been concerned.

But that point had come and gone. How long had it been now?

Alcor – he was supposed to be all knowing – didn't know.

 _In a few minutes it won't matter_. That voice had been growing in dominance. And he had let it. After all, they had come so far this way. A far cry from being hunted and almost annihilated by lower echelon demon scum. He had consumed his enemies. He had made a name for himself.

And now he was going to see Mabel.

This is what he had been fighting for. Fighting to survive. To come back to his sister.

 _What are you waiting for?_

What indeed.

Dipper reached out with his mind, sensing the barrier between realities all around him. It felt as if he was suspended in tree sap. Thick, gooey, and viscous, but not at all like the impenetrable wall it had once been.

His power, oozing into his aura, simply warped the atmosphere around him, surpassing the metaphysical melting point of reality. Alcor pushed harder, willing the sparks, like tiny stars of his internalized galaxy, to spread out and permeate the room. The pencils sitting in a cup on Mabel's desk shivered. The floorboards groaned. The closet door rattled, but stayed shut.

Like this, Alcor could press his hand against the weakening barrier, claws leaving furrows. And Alcor ripped his way through.

For some reason, it felt all too easy.

A threshold, he realized.

Since he had surpassed that threshold, Alcor was on a new level. In his mind's eye, he could watch the feats he would achieve in the future like a high-budget cinema. One day he would rip California in two. Good to know. He'd have to get Mabel out of here before then.

But that was beside the point right now.

Alcor floated in Mabel's room. His void-black suit highly offsetting the pink of her rumpled bedspread and the Lisa-Frank inspired color palettes that filled her artwork push-pinned to the walls. His gloved hands shivered in the real world air, both with excitement and anticipation.

Dipper would get to see Mabel.

Alcor would get to see the world under his feet.

It was cold in Mabel's room. The temperature difference against his skin made it feel like molten gold as air condensed on his face. It felt like a tear was running down his cheek.

He looked into the mirror on Mabel's wall and froze.

The sight that greeted him was unearthly. Horrific. Terrifying.

Something straight from the pits of hell.

Shadows bent toward the creature, groping like dying men at his coat tails. Shiny shoe tips never touched the floor, hanging suspended like a puppet. Gold accents shimmered, iridescent, with ultraviolet flames that couldn't be properly seen with the human eye. Unfurled, ebony wings cast a silhouette like giant claws on the walls to say nothing of the claws on his hands, extended and ready to rip the soul out of the nearest living creature.

He forced his gaze to travel up.

A leer filled with rows of razor sharp teeth had remained fixed on the creature's lips. Shit-eating grin. Deceiver's face. His skin was no longer tinted by the Gravity Falls summer sun. Instead, it was pale, drawn, and washed-out. He would have looked like a freaking vampire were it not for his…

His eyes.

Oh, God save him.

His eyes.

Soulless.

Or would be if he didn't _know_ that he had a soul.

But sclera were not meant to be that black. Like someone had injected ink into the vitreous body and somehow the whole system still worked. Worked better. After all, he could peek into other timelines and dimensions now – or soon. He could see colors in emotion and wavelengths that no one else could.

And irises were not meant to be that gold. Sure, some people had honey-brown eyes that could appear gold in the sunlight. Not so for him. It appeared as if someone had pounded out sheets of that precious metal and implanted them in his eyes. And they glowed. With life. With hate. With a lust for power. They burned.

Tracks of liquid gold ran from the corners of his eyes to the bottom of his chin.

Why was he crying again?

 _Because, for all your hard work, you cannot return to Mabel her brother. You are no longer him. You may still be Dipper Pines in some way, shape, and form. But you are not that boy from three years ago._

Three years. Had it really been that long?

 _You are Alcor the Dreambender. A demon. Was that not the name you gave the Time Baby when you killed him? When you embraced your nature?_

Dipper had thought he was something else.

 _Sure, kid, let's go with that_.

He had failed.

He could not let Mabel see him now.

He would not replace the memory of Mabel's brother with this creature – this monster – that was reflected back at him in the mirror. He wasn't right. He wasn't enough. Or maybe he was too much. Too much of something that was completely and utterly **wrong**.

 **WRONG!**

The image in the mirror rippled. The creature's face – his face – was distorted simply by the power of that thought. Around him, the air grew hotter. A candle on Mabel's desk spontaneously lit with cyan flames.

 _What's wrong?_

 **"I am."** Dipper answered himself. **"I can't do this."**

 _Yes you can. You have all the power you could ever need._

 **"But that's not what I need. I need my sister. I needed her from the beginning. I always needed her. If she was with me, I could have been better."**

 _Better?_ The demon asked. _Better how?_

Dipper felt his panic rising as he realized how far he'd come.

 **"More human."**

A part of him was laughing with hysteria and another part of him was laughing maniacally. It seemed that his greatest obstacle would always be himself.

His self-doubt.

His nature.

Dipper's gaze fell to his hands. His gloves and cuff links. Black on gold. Like his eyes.

In a dimension separated by time and space, he saw ruby red blood dripping off his fingers. He couldn't touch Mabel. He couldn't hug Mabel. Not with these hands.

It terrified Dipper. Everything he had been working towards had been for a moment when he could do so. He tore through his enemies so he could tear through reality. Who's to say he wouldn't tear her life in two as well?

It scared him.

To.

Inaction.

Alcor's power fizzed and died. He faded into the mindscape and drew into himself. Hands braced either side of his head. All eyes screwed tightly closed. Forget the world.

 _You wanted the world._

Dipper had wanted power. A means to an end. But it was all for nothing.

 _You've started something. You can't stop._

Inexorably, the sight of his third eye was pulled back to Mabel's room – warm now without his presence, bright with colors in more than one dimension, and filled with love and encouragement that she had ceaselessly showered upon him even when he hadn't known he'd needed it. Mabel had returned to her desk. She clicked open her web browser and continued her search. On…

"No." Dipper muttered miserably to himself. Dejected. Hopeless.

On Alcor the Dreambender, cults, and sacrifices.

 _Events have already been put in motion. Events which you could SEE if you LOOKED. But no. You're just going to sit here and whine. Wallow. See if I care._

"No."

 _Yes._

And this is why being a demon might just be… easier. No heartbreak. No shame. No guilt. Just fun and chaos and power. Already he was craving more. He was hungry. Even after he'd already had so much.

 _Yes_.

"Go away, Dipper."

 _Yes._

"I don't want to deal with this."

 _Yes._

"I could be better off by just ignoring this."

 _Yes_.

 **"Alcor the Dreambender should not have to deal with these petty, human emotions. And since when does a demon exist for the sake of a human? Pitiful."**

 _Yes._

 **"I'm hungry."**

 _I'm hungry._

So Alcor opened his eyes. He moved. And in his wake was destruction. He went on. And in his mind was locked a part of him that was more human than any demon had a right to be.

Somewhere down the line that part of him stirred for the first time in what felt like ages.

It started with that all-too familiar sense of a summons, pulling Alcor from his mindscape and into a warehouse. Humid air stuck to his skin in this plane of reality. He could hear distant sounds of the San Francisco Bay coming from outside as cargo ships moved in and out of Pacific waters.

Around the circumference of the circle stood members of yet another cult. Their names and faces had all blurred together in Alcor's mind. They were worthless, save for their souls.

Speaking of which.

There was a human inside the array as well.

Spread eagle on the ground. Twitching. Bleeding. Dying.

In this state, the human's soul was ripe for the taking. No doubt organized by the cult. A sacrifice.

Mabel.

It was like everything in his mind simply stuttered and stopped.

But his eyes – glowing bright gold with growing rage – continued to watch as second by second as Mabel lost the essential components that made Mabel _Mabel_. Her soul was dimming. Her body was surrounded by an ever growing pool of red. Her breaths were faltering.

That gap in her chest fit the exact dimensions of the silver, ceremonial blade held by the cult leader. They were saying something. Probably proposing their deal. But Dipper didn't hear a word of it. He didn't hear anything at all. Not the thrum of the leader's words; not even the shuddering, wet breaths of his sister.

Dipper awoke to scream at himself: THINK!

But there was only one solution.

Alcor alit on the floor. Dipper knelt beside his sister. He took her hand and whispered into her mind.

"I can save you."

There wasn't a coherent thought. Just an impression. A driving force.

 _I'm not done yet_.

"No you're not."

His voice was soft as he squeezed her fingers. They responded with a jerk accompanied by a little smile at the corner of her lips. There was no way her eyes were seeing.

Because she wouldn't wear that expression while looking upon the form of a demon that had grown dark as the endless universe. She wouldn't wear that expression when seeing patterns of brickwork creeping over his face, reminiscent of the creature which had killed her brother. She wouldn't wear that expression knowing that that third eye was staring hungrily at her soul.

And yet, she _was_ smiling. At him. Dipper couldn't decide if he was brimming with happiness at that or self-loathing at what he was about to do. She wouldn't be smiling when this was over.

His hand – the one that wasn't holding onto his sister for dear life – reached out and took her soul. Mabel was in so much pain already, she hardly reacted. She was lost. She was _his_ now.

Dipper took her soul.

Mabel's hand went limp. Her unseeing eyes went glassy.

Alcor stood and turned toward the cultists. They were waiting expectantly, under the impression that Alcor had heard their demands and had accepted their offering. But it wasn't their request he was granting tonight.

No.

 _I've made a deal with someone far more important than you scum._

Yes.

Alcor stretched out his hand – the one that wasn't holding onto his sister's soul for dear life – and removed the cultists from existence. It wasn't enough to simply kill them for what they had done. This way, they wouldn't be remembered. Not by anyone who knew them; not even by future incarnations.

He would remember them, though. And he would extract vengeance in their next life as well. He had always had a vindictive streak.

Dipper looked down at Mabel's soul, pulsing blue and bright in his hand. He didn't want to do this, but it was the only way. He swallowed her soul in one easy gulp. Easy. It had been too easy.

And the sparks that danced under his skin felt warm instead of hot.

He let the energy flow back into his hands and sent it toward Mabel's body.

Her blood flowed back and her wounds re-knit themselves. And like a punch to the chest, she took a big gulp of air. She was breathing again. She was seeing again.

Mabel's eyes lit with recognition. She knew of Alcor the Dreambender. Who didn't? She didn't recognize him. Who would? And worst of all… she was very afraid.

 **"The contract has been fulfilled."** His voice caused reality to vibrate with unease, **"Your life has been returned to you, but now YOUR SOUL IS MINE!"**

Dipper wanted to curl up and die. He never wanted this. He didn't want to acknowledge that…

This is what it takes to become a demon.

* * *

 **I bring you the final installment! (a million years later) Sorry about that. I don't have an excuse :P Anyway, this chapter was more on the introspective side. I also had fun referencing the** **actual!** **AU** **in this. Hope you enjoy! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR READING AND REVIEWING!**


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